Dear Mr Bricker
by tiramisuspice
Summary: "We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us. As a highflier, an athlete, a basket case, a socialite, and a delinquent. Correct?"


**19000 words. 43 pages on Microsoft Word and over three days of revision. Just letting you know the torture I put myself through to write this. If there are grammatical errors, please let me know. I did my best revising, but my eyes can't see every little mistake and stuff.  
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**Rated High T for Typical High T Things. AU!  
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**This is obviously based on The Breakfast Club, a fun and iconic 80s movie. If you've never seen it before, GO WATCH IT. SERIOUSLY. Even if you don't like it, you have to see it at least once in your life. My inspiration for this piece was a Breakfast Club version that an author Satellites on Parade wrote! She inspired me to try to write my own! Started writing this in October and added stuff to it on and off! And now I'm finally done! Can I get a WHOOP WHOOP!  
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**And one more thing: I wrote this piece thinking about how the five could have ended up should their friendship have dwindled once they hit high school. I feel like this is the path they might have gone down. In my mind, this is how their lives might have changed. If they feel OOC, cool beans. ;***

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Breakfast Club or I Didn't Do It and am merely using the characters for entertainment.**

* * *

There's some faded graffiti on the south wall of the gym building that has been there for who knows how long. Some of the letters are gone.

It reads _I A MY O N PE ON._

Everyone sees it. They've all tried to fill in the missing letters in their mind at least once. No one has figured out what it used to say.

* * *

_"Saturday March 24, 2012. DITKA High School. Evanston, IL 60201._

_Dear Mr. Bricker._

_We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong. What we did was wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us, in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. You see us as a highflier, an athlete, a basket case, a socialite, and a delinquent. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at seven o'clock this morning. We were brainwashed."_

* * *

There are two blonde students sitting in the dank library of DITKA High at 6:54 AM. One sits at one front table, hands folded on the desk, face indifferent, but nervously chewing on the inside of her mouth. The other sits languidly at the neighbouring table, carving something with his fingernail on the side of the table. They don't say a word to each. They don't look at each other.

A brunette with shifty eyes walks in looking nervous not two minutes later, hands shoved into his letterman jacket. He gives a small, slightly embarrassed wave to the one carving his name with his fingernail and sits two seats down at the same table as him. They both smile at each other slightly in amusement, but don't converse.

Another arrives at exactly 7:00 wearing an oversized neon paint splattered coat and plops onto the back table loudly, huffing in irritation and throwing her head on the table with a loud clunk. Her wild dark hair splays all over the table. She lifts up her head slowly and rests her chin on her fist, staring suspiciously at the back of the others' heads. Her face is obscured by her hair, but she doesn't do anything about it.

No one moves.

The last one saunters in breezily at a quarter past seven, sneer hidden behind the aviators she wears on her face, just as the bell begins to ring. Her coat is raggedy and boots are falling apart at the seams and every step she takes, there is an odd squishing. She pauses at the front, looking at the rest for a second before scoffing and dropping into a chair at the table behind the blonde girl, kicking her feet up on the table with a dignified, resounding clank. She crosses her arms over her chest, staring daggers into the head of the blonde.

Blonde girl sniffs uncomfortably.

Blonde guy rolls his eyes after glancing at the newest comer.

Letterman jacket slumps further in his seat.

Brunette in the back tightens her coat around her and blows a few strands out of her face.

Aviator shades glowers.

The ringing of the bell ceases and a moment of silence passes over the room. The girl in the shades groans in annoyance. The moment passes.

Mr. Bricker waltzes in authoritatively holding some sheets of papers and looking, for all intents and purposes of the word, ready to chew out the fresh meat sitting at the tables before him. He recognizes all five of them. He knows why all five are here. And he knows though they look defiant, they all will bend to his will anyway. You see, Mr. Bricker, though only the vice principal, is an intimidating man. Imposing. Though somewhat on the small stature side, he has a commanding presence. Even the most rebellious of them all bend to his will eventually. His distinguishing feature: his love for slightly flamboyant suits.

He stands in the front of the tables, sneering at them all in condescension. They all have challenging looks on their faces, but they are _nothing_. And by the end of the day, they will know their place.

"Well… well…" he says slowly, staring at them each in turn, "Here we are… I want to commend you for all showing up on time. Even you Miss Kang."

The aviator girl ignores him and continues to fiddle with her torn jacket's sleeve, picking the strings out and dropping them on the floor.

"Good morning. For those of you who don't know me, I am Mr. Bricker."

The blonde girl sits up straighter, "Good morning, Mr. Bricker." She replies steadily, back completely straight, head held high, nodding in respect. "I think there's been a mistake. You see, I don't really belong here."

The blonde guy at the other table snorts at almost exactly the same time as the girl with the aviators scoffs. He turns around in amusement, but aviator girl's face drops, and she glares daggers at him over her glasses. He spins back around and faces the front.

"Oh?" Mr. Bricker walks to the blonde's table and leans down, "And why do you think that?"

"Well, there's no way my offense can be as bad as hers." The blonde jerks her hand backwards, gesturing to the one sitting behind her, "I just don't think it's fair that our offenses merit us being lumped together like this. I mean, shouldn't the punishment fit the crime?"

Mr. Bricker's smile turns acidic, and he grins maliciously for a second before standing straight up and moving towards the middle juncture of the desks, "Is that so, Miss Watson? Do you honestly believe _your_ offense is any less punishable? Don't make me laugh."

The blonde girl silently turns back to face the front, cheeks burning red.

"In fact, let me make it clear to you all," he continues, addressing them all, "You all are here for a reason. You know what that reason is. So." He checks his watch as he paces slowly up and down the aisles. "It is now eighteen after seven. You have exactly eight hours and forty two minutes to consider what you did."

"And I have figured out the perfect way to do just that." He walks around, slapping down two sheets of printer paper and a pencil in front of each. "You will each write a thousand word essay telling me who you think you are. And by an essay, I don't mean the same word written one thousand times."

The girl in the aviators pulls them off her head and slides them on the table, raising her hand, "Uh, Bricker. Quick question. Since we can't write the same word one thousand times, does that mean we can write the same two words five hundred times?"

The brunette in the very back makes a slurping sound and the blonde in the front turns around just fast enough to see her drop a loogie on her paper and use the pencil eraser to slide it around. Her jaw drops in disgust and she turns around, cringing visibly.

"Amusing…" Bricker drawls, ignoring the question, "An essay. I'm sure you are all aware what that means." He paces back down the aisle, glaring at each of them in turn, "There will be no talking whatsoever. No moving from your seats."

He stops by Aviator girl and yanks her feet off the desk, "And no sleeping, Miss Kang."

She quirks an eyebrow and places her feet right back on the desk as soon as he heads back to the front of the library. "If I hear any sounds coming from this room, you will all be seeing each other again next week. Capiche?"

The blonde girl stands up almost immediately, holding her hand to her heart like a pledge, "I promise you, Mr. Bricker, I have no intention of ever returning—"

"Sit down, Miss Watson." He interjects, looking annoyed.

She blinks and sits down rapidly, ignoring the snort from the brunette in the very back.

"Questions?"

There is a slight pause, and Bricker smirks in amusement, turning to leave.

"Yeah. I got a question." The aviator girl runs her hands through her hair, a little smirk on her lips.

"Of course you do Miss Kang." He crosses his arms across his chest, "What, pray tell, is it this time?"

"I was just wondering…" she tilts her head mockingly, words sharp like a dagger, "Does Liberace know you raided his wardrobe?"

There are snickers from the two boys in the front and a particularly loud snort from the back as they try to stop themselves from laughing. The blonde girl in the front spins around to glare warningly at her. The amused smirk on Bricker's lips drops like a bomb, and he turns his full attention to the girl.

"Ah… detention never starts without one of your amusing little quips, does it, Miss Kang? I never get tired of hearing them."

She shrugs. "Hey, there's plenty more if you'd like."

"Great. Then I look forward to hearing another one when you're here next week." He says sharply before turning on his heel and leaving the library. The five watch him enter his office across the hall. Once he is seated, they all visibly relax.

No one breathes a word. The blonde in the front picks up her pencil and taps it lightly against her head, contemplating what she should write in the essay. The other blonde picks up the pencil and begins twirling it between his fingers aimlessly.

There is a moment of time where the silent air is humming with anticipation. No one breaks it. At least, until the brunette begins to chew on her fingernails. Each one snaps off with a decided noise that jars them all out of the lethargy they have put themselves into.

They all turn slowly to face the brunette. The brown haired boy's face curls in slight disgust and the blonde boy looks at her like she's got a few screws loose. The brunette momentarily stops chewing and stares back at them unaffected.

She swallows a nail and then recommences with the other hand.

Aviator girl smirks, "Careful toots… Save some for lunch, or there'll be nothing to eat."

She vehemently spits out her nail at the aviator girl.

The silence returns as they face the front once again. The blonde girl in the front writes a word, then shakes her head and erases it. Letterman jacket leans his head back in exasperation, closing his eyes in annoyance. His table companion taps his fingers lightly on the table to an unknown beat.

Such is the state of the students. The silence remains for a good four minutes.

"_Shit_!" Aviator girl suddenly exclaims. Everyone jumps in surprise, "He didn't tell us what to do if we hafta piss!"

There's a scoff from the front of the room, and Aviator girl turns toward the blonde boy, her cat like grin already pushing across her face, "What? It's a legitimate concern. I gotta take a piss. Where am I supposed to do it? In the trashcan up front?"

He turns around with a look of disgust on his face, "Obviously not. Just hold it in."

She snorts, "Cuz that's gonna work. When a girl's gotta piss, a girl's gotta piss."

"Can you please be quiet, Jasmine?" the blonde girl hisses, "We're going to get in trouble."

They all look towards the front where they see Bricker's head pop out from behind his doorway. Once his face disappears, the blonde visibly relaxes.

Jasmine holds a hand to her heart mockingly, "The pretty blonde knows my name. I'm touched."

"It's not like we're total strangers…" the brunet in the letterman jacket responds.

Jasmine snorts, "Oh that's right! I forgot! We _were_ best friends in junior high! That seems like ages ago. How many years ago are we talking? Two? Three?" She stands up and skips around the tables, stopping in front of each person. "Delia Delfano, the weirdo with no friends. Logan Watson, the most popular boy in school. Garrett Spenger, our esteemed varsity kicker." She finally stops at the front table, her sneer on full force, "And last, but certainly not least, our beloved student council president and captain of the debate team. Her highness herself: Lindy Watson."

Lindy glares up at her, lacing venom in her words, "And Jasmine Kang. The definite biggest troublemaker of the entire school."

"I'm touched." She smiles, albeit sourly, "You really _do_ know me, your highness."

"Yeah," Garrett pipes up, "Only because you're the biggest nuisance of the entire school. Now could you please sit down? I don't wanna get in trouble. I've got a football game I can't miss later."

"You're right." Jasmine says, her words dripping with sugar, "God forbid you get stuck here longer than you should because someone kept talking." She saunters over to the waste paper bin, picking it up and rummaging inside to look for who knows what. "Still…"

"Still what?" Garrett asks in annoyance when she doesn't continue her statement. He leans over to check if Bricker can hear the noise and is watching them.

"Still…" Jasmine drags out the word and takes off her coat, flinging it towards her seat and stretching loudly and obnoxiously, "It's hard to believe the infamous Watson twins who rule the school are in detention here with me. I feel like I'm rubbing elbows with celebrities!" She pans out her hands in front of her, grinning cloyingly, "One rules from the rotten peak of the popular assholes at the tip of the hierarchy ladder." She turns to Lindy with a smirk, "The other rules from the top of the geeky, squeaky clean, goody-goody gum drop mountain."

Lindy glares at her, slapping her pencil on the table in annoyance. "And where does that put you? In the bowels of the hierarchy? You're not even on the ladder."

She shrugs nonchalantly, "At least I'm not a poser. Or an asshole."

Logan turns to Jasmine, irritation clear in his features, "And you would know that how? You don't even know us."

"My dear Logan," she says belittlingly, "I don't know any lepers, but would I go out and hang out with them?"

She rushes over to the back, hopping onto Delia's desk. Delia flips her coat's hood onto her head and scootches slightly away, hissing at Jasmine like a cat. "Take Delia for example. Would you ever hang out with her?"

Logan narrows his eyes, "Well, no, but–"

"Mmhmm, that's what I thought." Jasmine stands back up and walks back to the front of Lindy's desk, placing her hands on it and leaning forward, "Would you ever hang out with your sister and her dweeby, straight-A student friends? Riddle me this, Lindy. What clubs are you in?"

Lindy narrows her eyes, "Debate, student council, and mathletes."

"Exactly!" Jasmine straightens and walks over to Logan, a hard glint in her eyes, "Do you think that's a cool enough club for you?"

"What are you even getting at?" he leans back, his lips curled in disgust.

"Answer the question. Cool enough club?"

"…No."

"My point exactly! You don't know them do you? Yet, would you hang out with them? No. Why? Because they're losers. And assholes. And bitches. And posers. Like you. I rest my case." Jasmine grins and plops back down into her own chair, placing her hands behind her head.

"Yeah, you're not a poser. You're much worse." Logan retaliates, "Do you know what they call you? They call you mental. A psycho bitch."

Jasmine yawns derogatorily, chuckling in amusement. "Amateur. They couldn't come up with something more creative?"

Lindy turns back around to face the front, "…Freak." She mutters under her breath.

Jasmine tsks, "Now, now, princess. If you don't have anything nice to say, you shouldn't say anything at all."

"Shut up." Lindy snaps, turning around again, "And stay shut up. God, why are you so annoying? Why do you always have to patronize everyone around you?"

"Good question. If I knew the answer to that myself, maybe I wouldn't be so patronizing, dontcha think?"

"Just leave her alone." Garrett growls, glaring at Jasmine.

"What did I possibly do to her while sitting on my ass in this chair, Spenger? Use a little common sense. Or is that too hard to do now? Have you already lost more than half of your neurons from getting whacked in the face by a big sack every day and night?"

Delia lets out a high squeak of laughter at that, and Garrett turns around, giving her an annoyed look. She sticks her tongue out at him through the curtain of hair and turns to the side.

"What are you implying, _Kang_?" Garrett responds with narrowed eyes.

"Nothing…" she puts her arms up in a placating position, "Nothing at all. I have nothing but respect for you guys who tackle and romp each other day and night and pass balls through their legs. Nothing but respect."

Logan rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair, fixing Jasmine with a glare, "Leave him alone. At least he has goals for his future. Unlike you. And would you be quiet? I don't want to get caught. I've got somewhere to be after this."

"I have goals for the future, hun." She puts on a fake smile, "Goals to become just like you and your merry group of partying, always pre-gaming friends!"

"Yeah? Good for you. Now shut it." He snaps, turning around resolutely to close the conversation.

Jasmine lets out a little chuckle, "What? No more ripostes? Don't leave me hangin' Preppy." She turns to Delia, "What about you, Weirdo? You don't want a piece of this conversation action?"

Delia turns to look at them over her shoulder before making a growling noise and pulling her coat tighter around her body and curling into ball. They hear a noise in the hallway and watch as Bricker stands to leave, heading towards the restroom at the end of the hall.

Jasmine lets out a little laugh and then glides over to the wastepaper basket, snatching it up, "Aww man. Now I gotta take a dump." Dropping it right in the front of the room, she plants her butt on the seat, pretending to strain.

Logan makes a disgusted noise at the back of his throat, "Would you stop being so crass? It's disgusting to watch."

Garrett shakes his head, looking away from her, "Just ignore her Logan. She just wouldn't know what to do if people weren't paying attention to her. She thrives on this."

She laughs, "I'd still have a hell of a lot more to do than drinking myself to an early grave like Mr. Popular over here. Or running around in tights tackling a bunch of burly men."

"Oh shut up." Logan grits out, "At least we bring something to the school. You don't do shit. You don't even count, Jasmine. You might as well not exist at DITKA."

Jasmine's mouth clamps shut momentarily and a hard glint flashes through her eyes. Her expression darkens.

"Well then maybe I'll just join the student council." She slowly peels out after a spell. "Become student body prez like lil' Lindy over here."

Logan and Garrett both snort, passing each other looks like she's got half a brain. Jasmine glares at both of them, standing up from her crouch and pushing the wastepaper basket with her foot back to its place.

Then she spins around, giving them both a hardened stare, "Ignore me, huh? Did any of you actually succeed?"

Logan's eyes narrow, but before he responds, Lindy lets out a loud huff, slapping her pencil onto the table once again.

"Now that _that's _over with, would you both please be quiet?! I think it would be best if we just sit down and get to work writing that essay. I, for one, don't intend to see any of you next week."

Jasmine nods sagely, "Her highness has a point." As she speaks, Jasmine creeps to the double doors of the entrance of the library, checking left and right to see if Bricker is anywhere near them. "Get to work everyone!" With a grin, she tinkers with the door jamb, twisting the mechanism at the top that is holding the door open.

"What are you doing?" Lindy hisses, "We'll get in trouble! Sit down!"

Jasmine turns around, "No need to worry, guys. I'm just having a little fun."

She continues to rotate the screw until at last, it comes out of the socket. She drops the screw into her bra just as the door slams shut with an obnoxiously loud '_Bang_!' that most likely could be heard throughout the entire hallway of the school. The wall and some of the bookshelves rattle from the impact. Jasmine lopes back to her seat, sitting down with her legs back on the desk and hands behind her head.

Delia's head snaps back up, and she slaps her hands against her face, in a silent O. Garrett lets out an exasperated yell of frustration.

"What the heck did you do that for? We are so frickin screwed!"

"What is wrong with you?" Logan adds, throwing his hands up in exasperation, "I mean seriously."

"Put it back!" Lindy hisses, her eyes wide and frantic.

"Just be quiet! It'll be funny, trust me."

"Trust _you_? Not even if my life depended it on it." Lindy says cynically, "Now put it back!"

Delia bangs her hands on the table in excitement, laughing silently with her mouth wide open.

"Yeah, put it back!" Logan reiterates.

"Hush!" Jasmine hisses, "Or he'll catch you talking."

"I swear, Jasmine, if you don't put that thing back right now—"

The library door rips open, and Bricker strides in, his expression stormy. Delia releases a high pitched squeak and plonks her forehead onto the table, effectively hiding her face. He takes a look at them all, eyes narrowed. Their expressions are too innocent, too perfect, but there is unease in the air.

"Anyone care to tell me why that door is closed?"

"We wouldn't know, Mr. Bricker. After all, we've been sitting in our seats the whole time."

Bricker's jaw clenches, and he turns to face Jasmine, eyes narrowed dangerously, "And I suppose you think this is amusing, Kang? Where is the screw?"

"I wouldn't know Mr. Bricker. Screws come out all the time."

Mr. Bricker yanks the chair from the librarian's desk and shoves it in front of the door, trying to keep it open.

"Uh, with all due respect sir." Jasmine croons, "I don't think that's going to work."

The door shuts and the chair gets smashed out of the way, flying into a bookshelf. Logan snorts, trying to keep his face neutral, while Lindy covers her mouth slightly with her hand.

"Very funny." He addresses them all as he approaches, his face turning slightly red, "Who took out the damned screw? Tell me or so help me I will keep you all here until someone confesses!"

"No one took the screw." Lindy pipes up quietly, her face turning red.

"Yeah, it just fell off," Garrett grumbles.

"It happens to all of us, sir." Jasmine adds, an amused expression in her eyes.

Mr. Bricker lets out a low snarl and walks over to Jasmine's table, stopping at the side. She stares back up at him with a cocked eyebrow, her lips tugging slightly into a cocky smirk.

"Something the matter, Bricker?"

"Give me the screw, Kang. Now."

"But I don't _have_ it." She insists innocently. Her expression is so perfectly serene that it could have seemed real. "This is an old building. You've got to expect some things to break down over time."

"You think this is funny, huh?" He leans in closer, his eyes glinting with exposed malice, "You try to compensate for your gross shortcomings as a human being with this _disgusting_ behaviour, hiding behind your cowardice with delinquency. But you're not fooling anybody. Especially not me."

Jasmine's eyes narrow, and she crosses her arms across her chest, looking at a soiled spot on the carpet. "Eat my shit…"

"What was that just now?" His gaze turns lethal, and his voice grows increasingly cold, "What did you just say?"

"I said." She jerks her feet off the table, turning towards Bricker with eyes blazing with loathing, "Eat. My. _Shit_."

"Congratulations Miss Kang. You just bought yourself another Saturday detention." He spits out, pointing a finger in her face.

"Oh, how awful… Is that the worst you can do?"

"That's another Saturday right there." He says lowly.

"Well goody for me! Got any more?"

"I'm glad you're so thrilled about the circumstances, Miss Kang. Especially seeing as how you'll be here yet another Saturday."

"_Great._ Are you still going to be the colossal tool you usually are? Cuz I'd hate to miss out on all the fun!" Her voice raises, and she sits up straighter, eyes shining with venom.

"Good! You can enjoy more fun with yet another Saturday!" He barks.

"Ooh another? I'm pissing my pants over here! You free next month?"

"Well then have another! And after that one, why not another Kang!" He roars, his lips curled in absolute contempt, "You might as well fill your entire calendar with detentions right now."

She crosses her arms and sits back in her seat, fuming and breathing harshly.

"You want another? Just say the word! Say it! You'll come here every day for the rest of your miserable life instead of prison just like your lowlife father!"

Jasmine's eyes flash, and she jerks her middle finger up in his face.

"That's another two Saturdays right there!" He snaps, "You finished?"

She grits her teeth together, "No."

"Then by all means, keep going Kang. I'm doing society a favor keeping scum like you off the streets." He growls ferociously.

"So?"

"That's another!" He laughs, a harsh bark of laughter that makes the hair stand on end. "I've got you for the rest of your damn time in this school! You want another?"

Her lip curls, and she glares up at him out of the corner of her eye, "…Yes."

"You got it! That's another one right there, pal!"

"Cut it out!" Lindy exclaims suddenly, looking worried. Jasmine glances at her and then around the room, realizing that the rest of them had all been watching the exchange with something like trepidation on their faces. Her gaze goes back to Lindy who mouths her to stop.

"You through?" Bricker asks acerbically.

"Not. Even. Close." Jasmine's hard stare goes back to Bricker.

"Well then have another. I'm doing your mom a favor." He sneers at her, mocking her contemptuously, "You through now?"

"Does it look like I give two shits?"

"That's another one. How about now?"

"How many is that?" she snarls condescendingly.

"Well that's twelve, not counting the one for the Liberace comment." Garrett comments quietly. Logan elbows him to be quiet.

"So you've got fourteen." Bricker hisses at Jasmine.

"Actually, sir, it's thirteen…" Garrett repeats.

"Shut up Spenger." He barks. He walks part of the way back to the door, turning to Jasmine, "I've got you for the next three months, Kang. You know, if you would stop trying to put on airs in front of people who couldn't give a rat's ass whether you live or die, you might be able to make something of yourself." Jasmine scoffs and folds over into herself, glaring daggers into the ground. Delia slowly drags her head up from the table, licking her lips slowly in shock.

He addresses the rest of them, "Now I'm going to be standing directly outside this door. If I hear so much as a _peep_ coming out this door, you'll all be getting another Saturday!"

As the door slams shut behind Mr. Bricker, a resounding "_FUCK YOU!"_ rings out. He closes his eyes momentarily, catching his breath before walking back to his office. No disrespectful brat would get away with that behaviour. Not on his watch.

* * *

At 9:30, everyone is aimlessly doing their own thing, dazed or daydreaming. Even studious Lindy is no longer paying attention, instead mentally reciting her speech for reelection coming soon. Logan stares off into space, leaning on his wrist. Delia is creating an alien calling hat on her head, and then rips off a strand of hair to tie in a knot at the top. Garrett is trying to make a clover with his tongue, going cross eyed to see if he succeeds. Jasmine balances her lighter on her raggedy boots, moving her foot slowly right and left, aviators on, head lolled to the side.

Logan is the first to go, his head slumping down onto the table, as soft snores fill the room.

By 9:43, everyone is dead asleep, in various positions and arrangements.

This is how Mr. Bricker finds them twenty minutes later. Snoring softly and curled up into themselves or laying their heads on the table.

"Wake up!" he barks.

No one responds.

He releases an annoyed sigh, "Who needs to use the restroom?"

Five arms fly into the air.

* * *

Once they have all peed and Bricker has left, they lounge around various places in the library, all watching as Jasmine burns random pages of a novel, creating small holes, but cutting out the fire before the smoke starts to rise too far.

"You're destroying school property!" Lindy protests, "Quit it!"

Logan stops yawning and gives Jasmine an odd look, "You got something against Mo-lay?"

"Molière." Jasmine corrects lazily, blowing out another little spreading circle of fire. The others look at her in slight surprise.

"Since when do you read classic literature?" Lindy asks, looking somewhat impressed.

Jasmine shrugs, burning up another page and then stifling the flame before it spreads. "Since high school started. Of course you wouldn't know that though." She fixes Lindy with a poignant look before going back to her activity. Lindy looks down at the carpet.

"Hey, are you grounded, Logan?" Garrett asks, changing the subject. "There's a party at Justine's tonight after the game. Her parents are out of town. You going?"

"Hard to say…" Logan leans back onto the two back legs of his chair. "Mom was kind of peeved, but she didn't say anything. And Dad really didn't care."

"Hey Lindy." Jasmine says, grinning like a cat. "Are _you_ grounded?"

Garrett and Delia look at her curiously. Lindy glances at her brother quickly, then looks back down at her sheet of paper. "…I'm not…"

Jasmine's eyes narrow, "Didn't take you for a liar, Lindy Watson. Does the honour code mean nothing to you? You're the school prez."

She swallows thickly, "I'm not grounded."

Logan stares at her, "Yes you are… I heard Mom and Dad yelling at you."

"Aha!" Jasmine throws the mangled book onto the floor and hops onto her feet, sauntering around the front of the tables, "Which brings up the question I'm sure everyone has been thinking or has wondered. In your opinion Lindy, which of you twins do you think your parents like better? The boring good girl who has a squeaky clean record? Or the fun-loving party boy who has no ambition?"

"They like us both equally!" Lindy says heatedly, her face burning red.

"But that's not true is it?" Jasmine leans forward against the table, "Why is it that the Watson parents don't punish the son, but punish the daughter? Think carefully. Who do they speak to more often? Who makes them laugh more often? Do you eat dinner in your room by yourself while you study? How many tickets do they buy for games of their alma mater? There's always one less than there should be, right?"

"Just because they don't talk to me as much doesn't mean that they don't love us equally." Lindy interjects hotly, "I mean yeah. Maybe they can't relate to me as much anymore, but they're still proud of me. It's not important."

"It's not important you say? So then why were they so hard on you and so easy on Logan?"

"Maybe because they don't care as much?"

"Or maybe…" Jasmine drawls, "Because they like Logan better than you."

"HA!" Delia interjects triumphantly, blowing hair out of her face. Everyone turns to Delia, who bites her lip as if holding a laugh in. Garrett cracks a smile, snorting slightly in amusement.

Lindy spins around, affronted, "Shut up, Delia!"

Jasmine turns to Garrett, her eyes sharp and glinting, "What about you, Sporto? How's your relationship with your folks?"

He stiffens and puts his guard up, "Actually, we get along swimmingly. Let me guess? That makes me an idiot?"

"You're already an idiot." Jasmine picks at her nails in boredom. Logan's lips quirk up, "Funny you should say that when you come from a divorced household with belligerent parents. So you're a liar too."

Garrett's eyes narrow and he straightens, giving Jasmine a dirty glare, "You know something Jasmine? If you were a guy, I'd have wasted you by now."

"Don't let my gender stop you." She lets out a short bark of laughter, spinning around completely to face him, "Cuz guy or girl I'm pretty sure you would be dead by now…"

"You really think so? You think you're that good at fighting that you could kill someone with a few hits?"

Jasmine's gaze goes deadly, "I wouldn't have to hit you."

She pulls out a medium sized pocket knife and flips it open, staring Garrett down with a look of indifference. Delia gasps loudly, sticking her hair into her mouth and chewing on it while the twins watch Jasmine with barely concealed trepidation. Garrett swallows and takes a slight step back.

Her head tilts maliciously, "Where's all that bravado from a few moments ago, sweetie?"

Logan stands up, moving slowly towards Jasmine, "Put it away, okay? This isn't funny."

"Pretty big balls you got walking toward someone with a knife." She finally turns her gaze to Logan and lets out a little chuckle, slipping the weapon back into her pocket. "Relax, you guys. I'm not planning on killing any of you anytime soon."

Lindy scoffs and rolls her eyes, turning back around to face the front while the rest slip back into their seats.

* * *

At half past eleven, Bricker saunters back into the library, looking at them all with disdain.

"Alright you knuckleheads. Lunch time."

Lindy raises her hand, swallowing nervously, "But sir, isn't eating in the library against school rules? Shouldn't we be eating in the cafeteria?"

Garrett and Logan give each other looks, before Logan also speaks up, "And can't I get something to drink? Like milk or anything?"

Bricker narrows his eyes, "I'm sure you can survive."

Garrett raises his hand, "Actually, sir. I don't have anything to drink either."

"Neither do I." Lindy adds.

Jasmine snorts and leans back on her back chair legs with her hands behind her head.

Mr. Bricker growls in annoyance. "Fine. I'll let you go get some drinks." He points a finger in Garrett's direction. "You. Go get some drinks."

"I'm gonna need some help carrying them."

"Okay." Bricker stares at them all, ignoring Logan's hopeful look, and Garrett's small gesture towards him. "Go with her." He points to Delia who is turned away, staring at a bookshelf in a daze.

"You, you. Hey you, wake up! What's her name?" Delia still stares at the wall, not paying attention.

Jasmine cackles quietly, putting her pencil above her puckered upper lip.

"You in the back. Go with Spenger!" he barks.

Delia visibly rolls her eyes and huffs, snatching up her bag and standing up in a flourish. Garrett looks similarly disappointed as he follows her out the door.

* * *

Garrett and Delia walk down the hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoing loudly through the air. It's only made louder by the fact that the silence between them is deafening.

"So..." Garrett looks over his shoulder, wondering if she was still even there since she was being so quiet. She stares up at him through her hair covered face. "What are you going to drink?"

She doesn't visibly react, and he turns back around with an exasperated sigh, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Forget it." He says under his breath.

Delia smiles slightly and walks up to him, head tilted up haughtily.

"Goat milk and tequila."

"Goat milk… and tequila?" he says slowly, partly in incredulity, partly in surprise. Her voice sounds more rough and scratchy than he remembers. Almost as if she hasn't talked in a very long time and finally used her voice again today.

"That's right." Delia says, looking back with a smirk on her face.

Garrett frowns a little in confusion, "Well, I'm pretty sure they don't have anything like goat milk here. And they definitely don't have tequila."

"Yes they do." She says coyly, "You just don't know where to look…"

"Is that why you're here? You were drinking on campus?"

Delia lets out a squeak of laughter, but ignores his question, continuing to walk.

Garrett frowns, "What did you do to get Saturday detention?"

Delia stops walking and turns around, glaring at him through her long, disheveled bangs.

"What did _you_ do?" She snaps.

Garrett is a little taken aback by her aggressive response and stares at her for a second. She continues to glare, her obscured face looking slightly demonic in a sense. He sighs and leans back against the wall, running a hand through his hair.

"My uh… My dad and my coach. They both want me to succeed. Don't want me to screw up and do something stupid before games… So, uh… Here I am."

"Yeah?" she nods in understanding.

"Yeah…" he responds quietly, looking at the ground.

"That's great. Now why don't you tell me why you're _actually_ here."

Garrett narrows his eyes at Delia.

"Forget it…" he mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes and continuing down the hall to get the drinks.

Delia's mouth quirks up, and she chews her lip to keep from smiling as she follows him down the hall.

* * *

Jasmine sits on the railing of the library, kicking her legs back and forth and watching the two twins at each of their respective tables. Grinning mischievously, she walks over to Logan's table and climbs on top of it, sitting Indian style and facing him.

She leans down on her elbows on her knees and rests her chin on her fisted palms. Logan looks up at her out of the corner of his eye, mistrust evident in his expression. It only makes her smile more.

"So Logan. Are you a virgin?"

"That's none of your business." He growls, fiddling with the pencil on his table and avoiding her gaze.

She ignores him, "I mean everyone wants to know. There are so many rumours surrounding you and your promiscuity. Have you parked your Porsche in a dark alley yet?"

He scoffs and gives her a dirty look.

"You know?" She clarifies, sliding her finger in and out of the O she creates with her other hand, "Injected the meat? Stuffed the turkey? Hid the salami?"

"I _know_ what you meant, Jasmine. I didn't answer because it's such a ridiculous thing to ask. And quite frankly, none of your business."

"Is it? Is it so weird to ask someone if they have already had sex?" She smiles serenely and leans down close to his face, whispering slowly, "Don't you want to know if _I'm_ a virgin?"

His eyes meet hers for a fraction of a second before he quickly turns his gaze straight to the ground, his cheeks tinged slight red.

"Aww. What's wrong Logan?"

"Get out of my face, Jasmine." He responds, nonplussed.

Jasmine laughs and straightens back up. Lindy looks over at them with interest in the conversation, but she doesn't turn her head away fast enough. Jasmine sees her interested expression and grins.

"Even your sister is curious." She rotates so that she's fully facing Lindy, though Lindy determinedly doesn't look at her. "Hey Logan. Did you know your own sister's not a virgin?"

Lindy's head flies up, and she stares at Jasmine in shock. "I am _so_ a virgin!"

"Again with the lies, Lindy? I'm beginning to question your integrity as a school president."

"I-I… I _am_ a virgin!" she crosses her arms and turns fully to Jasmine. Her face is burning red. "I haven't done anything!"

"Mmhmm…" Jasmine taps her chin, "The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

"Hey, leave her alone Jasmine." Logan says quietly. "If she says she's a virgin, then she's still a virgin."

"If you say so." Jasmine hops off the table with a smirk and walks back toward her seat.

Lindy is a little shocked at her brother's declaration and stares at him, confusion written in her features. He meets her stare and gives her a quick, barely there smile before turning back to face the front and wait for the others. Lindy looks back down at the table and smiles.

* * *

"So what do you have for lunch?" Jasmine asks Garrett as she snatches up a coke for herself, and then another which she tosses to Delia. Delia catches it effortlessly.

"Some carbs?"

"_Some _carbs?" she laughs, "Looks like you've got a whole grocery store in your lunch bag. What about you Logan?"

"Just some stuff…Where's your lunch?" Logan asks her.

"In your pants~"

He turns away, rolling his eyes, "Walked right into that one."

The conversation is interrupted by the loud snap that comes from the back as Delia opens her lunch. They turn and watch her with disgust as she removes the meat from her sandwich and pours some seaweed on the bread, followed by a slathering of chocolate pudding and crushed corn chips at the top. She takes a huge bite of the sandwich, munching happily and ignoring their looks and Lindy's borderline green face.

When they turn back around mentally shaking off the disturbing image, Jasmine stands back up and claps her hands together.

"Well! Looks like everybody is happy with their lunches. And _so_ much diversity! We've got the crazy lunch that only a pregnant woman or fat hippo would eat. The meal fit for a king. Or a fat hippo." She gestures to Lindy and Logan, "And the cookie cutter, typical suburban family lunch for the two adorable twins!"

Lindy gives her a look, "Cookie cutter?"

"I can see it now!" Jasmine continues. "Okay you ready? Here's my impression of life at the Wonderful Watson house!"

They watch as she flips her hair over her shoulder and titters happily, affecting a happy persona. "Here are your lunches little Lindy and little Logan!"

She pretends to look up into the air, making her voice more high pitched. "Gee thanks Mom! You made tuna? My absolute favorite! You're the best!"

She looks down again, pretending to pinch some cheeks. "Anything for my precious Lindy!"

She makes her voice only a little more high pitched, "Can I have an extra applesauce?"

"Now, now Logan. You can have applesauce when you come home."

She deepens her voice and puffs out her chest, "Honey, did you remember to take a picture of them before they go off to school?"

"Oh darling! That's a splendid idea! Let's all take a family photo! You're such a wonderful husband!" She touches her hand to her chest and sighs happily.

"Great idea dad!"

"Yeah dad!"

She holds her collar, chortling. "Aw shucks! Thanks kids!"

She puts her hands in front of her, smiling brilliantly and pretending to take a photo. She flips her hair over her shoulder again.

"Now remember children. Always follow the rules in school, and do all your homework, okay?"

"Yes Mommy!"

Dropping the happy-go-lucky face and reverting to her signature sneer, she sticks her finger in her mouth and fake gags. Lindy and Logan's eyes are narrowed in annoyance, and Delia watches without an expression. Garrett has stopped eating and is watching Jasmine now.

"What do you think? Right on the mark, right?" She taunts, her eyebrows raised mockingly.

Logan's lip curls, "Go fuck yourself."

She winces, "Ouch. Did I touch a nerve?"

Lindy rolls her eyes, "Okay then, Jasmine? Why don't you show us what _your_ home life is like?"

Jasmine's expression darkens.

"Glad you asked." She says cryptically.

She stands in the center of the room and pretends to fluff her hair and check her makeup. "Honey, he's a nice guy! Just get him food when he asks and you'll be okay."

She goes back to her regular expression, "But I don't _want_ to be left alone with him Mom! He looks at me weird!"

The fluffing again. She lifts her boobs up, looks disappointed, and then pretends to shove something in the bra cup. "Don't be so melodramatic. He wouldn't do anything to you."

"Where are you going Mom?" Jasmine speaks panicked, pretending to grab her mom's sleeve. "Please don't leave me alone with him!"

"Get off me. Do you want me to stay in this apartment feeling sorry for myself forever?! I need to have a life too, especially since your father went to prison!"

She pretends to leave and Jasmine makes a scared face again, walking to a different place. "Hey Jerry. Do you have money to order pizza?"

She sits in a chair, legs wide open, sneer on her face, "Where's your mom?" She talks in a deep, gruff voice.

"…Out."

"Come 'ere."

Jasmine's face falls, and she backs up, putting her hands up, "Get away from me."

She changes position and advances toward her old position, eyes glinting mischievously, lust on her features. "I said come 'ere you dirty little slut! Don't pretend you don't want it."

"I _said_ get away from me! I'll call the cops!"

"Call 'em, I don't care."

"Back off you son of a bitch!" Jasmine shouts, throwing a fist into the air.

"What did you just call me?" She rears her hand back in a fist and brings it down fast. She switches positions and cries out, jerking her head back and falling to the ground. She gets down on her knees and pretends to pull at something, "Next time I say come 'ere, you come 'ere, you understand?"

Jasmine lies on the floor, flailing her limbs and kicking her feet, though she looks constrained and squished, "No! Stop! Get off of me!"

She rolls over and pretends to unbuckle her belt. "Hell no." She grunts disgustingly.

"Stop!" She cries, going back to her position, gripping her pants. "Please!"

"Beg for it."

"No! Get off!"

"This'll be good for you. Just relax."

"Please don't!"

"Spread your legs, or I'll force you!"

"No!"

"Stop fighting me you little whore!"

"Get off you piece of shit!"

"You asked for it!"

"Stop! Ow! Stop hitting me! Stop hitting me! STOP HITTING ME!"

Jasmine yanks the knife out of her pocket and sticks it upward, shutting her eyes tightly. Delia holds her breath, gasping softly.

She turns over and kneels on her legs, gripping her abdomen. "Y-y-you fuckin' stabbed me!"

Jasmine turns on her back and looks up in fright, cowering into a ball.

She flips back over and pretends to groan in pain, holding her abdomen. "You bitch…" She slumps over and falls over to the side.

She remains there for a few seconds.

"I think he's finally out of the hospital." Jasmine says quietly, standing up and pushing her loose strands of dark hair out of her face. "Doesn't come around anymore."

Her breathing is hard, and her voice is shaking. Delia drops her sandwich on the table, her hand going to her mouth. Logan stares at her in shock, his eyes concerned.

Lindy's lip quivers, "Y-your mom's boyfriend molested you?"

Garrett snorts. "You're full of crap. You're probably making this up. Just like everything else that comes out of your mouth."

Her eyes flash, and she lets out a deep shaky breath through her nose. She stomps to the front of the room and spins around glaring at them viciously.

"You think I'm making this up?"

"Yeah. I do."

Her eyes narrow before she grabs the bottom of her shirt and yanks it up, showing her abdomen and revealing an array of purple bruises under her ribs and on her waist and hips. Lindy gasps quietly. Garrett's face goes pale. The bruises look like fingertips. She drops the shirt and lifts her bangs, bending down in Garrett's face so he can see the long, pale stitches across her forehead starting from where there is a bruise on her temple.

"You think I'm making it up now?" she hisses quietly, her voice shaking. "Take a good look _Garrett_! _This _is what you get if you don't listen at my home. _This_ is what happens when you don't _fuck_ your mom's boyfriend."

He swallows thickly and turns his face away, his appetite suddenly gone.

"All of you take a good look! _This_ is my life!" Jasmine storms to the back of the library, her eyes red rimmed and her breathing jerky and rough. She releases a raw, animalistic scream that reverberates around the library and rips several books from their shelves, throwing them left and right.

The ensuing silence when she stops stings them all and they sit there, not moving, breathing hard and recalling what they had just seen. It is an image that will never go away.

"You shouldn't have said anything, Garrett." Lindy whispers, her eyes looking worried.

"H-how was I supposed to know…?" he crosses his arms and bends forward.

* * *

The air is still grave when Jasmine jumps down from an upper ledge, ambling over to them with an unaffected air, her hands in her pockets.

"C'mon. Let's get outta here."

Logan's face twists, "Are you nuts? Bricker will catch us right away."

"Nah. I know Bricker like the back of my hand. He's about to go on his way to the lounge right now to get some coffee."

"No offense, but how can we rely on that logic?"

Jasmine grins and walks to the door, beckoning them to follow. They look uneasily at each other.

"Relax. We're just gonna run to my locker to pick up some stuff."

Slowly, the rest stand up as well and creep to the door. Jasmine pokes her head out of heavy wooden door and looks to the left and then the right. Sure enough, Bricker is walking down the hall in the direction of the teacher's lounge. Jasmine grins and slinks out the door, gesturing to everyone else that the coast is clear.

She leads them in the other direction from Bricker.

Lindy rushes along next to Jasmine, trying to get her to pick up the pace a little. It's too leisurely, and it sets her skin on edge.

"So why exactly are we going to your locker, again? And risking getting another detention?"

"To have some fun, Princess." Jasmine drawls, still walking at her leisurely pace. "Doesn't it feel good to get your hands dirty sometimes?"

Lindy doesn't reply, but doesn't look totally against the notion.

Delia trails at the back, picking up little pieces of dust or lint she finds on the ground and sticking them in the hood of her coat. She finds a pencil and shoves it into her bag.

"This school is creepy when no one's here…" Logan says, rubbing his hands up and down his arms.

When they reach her locker, the only mangled and dirty one in the area, she places a few choice kicks in the center and the door flies open. Lindy turns away at the smell while the rest look inside the contents of the locker with interest. It's not every day you got to see what Krazy Kang had stashed up in there. Lots of people liked to joke that she had dead bodies cut up into neat pieces hanging from hooks at the top.

"Your locker is disgusting…" Garrett says. It's just a regular locker in common disarray.

Jasmine snorts, "Sorry. The maid hasn't come by today."

She pulls a folded up gym shirt from the upper shelf and unravels it slowly. When it reaches the end, she shakes it gently and a rather large bulk of weed drops into her hand. She brings it up to her nose and sniffs deeply and satisfyingly.

"I missed you, babe." She murmurs to the bag.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Garrett exclaims. "You risked us getting caught by Bricker for frickin marijuana?!"

Lindy looks around impatiently, "That's great. Can we just go now? I don't want to get in trouble."

"You're seriously not affected by the fact that she has weed, Lindy?" Garrett gives her a strange look. "You _are_ the school president."

"Who cares!" she throws her hands up, "Let's just get back."

"Alright, alright already." Jasmine slams her locker shut with a loud _Bang_! "Follow me."

Garrett walks up at the front with Jasmine this time while Lindy lags behind a little, looking behind to see if Bricker is going to pop out of nowhere and catch them.

Logan falls into step next to her, his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. "So I was thinking. For mom and dad's anniversary? We could do like a joint gift. I think they would appreciate it more. Especially since we'll be gone soon."

Lindy gawks at him, like she can't quite believe he is actually talking to her. Her eyes narrow, "So I guess you deem me necessary to talk to now? Only because it's convenient, right?"

Logan looks away from her hostile gaze, "I…"

"You know? I _love_ how we used to be so close. And now you don't talk to me at all. Apparently, I'm not even your sister. What? Can't associate with a nerd like me?"

"I'm sorry..." He finally says, unable to think of any better words.

"Yeah. Me too." She walks ahead and the bitterness laced in her words makes Logan's gut clench in guilt.

They march along the hallway until Jasmine suddenly freezes. Lindy runs into Garrett, who also stops. Logan, lost in thought, runs into her back. Delia jumps up and down, pointing in front of them.

"_Shit!_" Jasmine hisses, "Bricker! Turn around!"

They turn around and run in the other direction, racing back the way they came.

"He's ahead of us!" Lindy cries, "We are so busted! We'll never get to the library in time."

"Yes we will." Jasmine says, "We just have to cut through the cafeteria."

Garrett skids to a halt at her suggestion, "No way! That's too much of a gamble. We could run straight into him if we do that! We should cut downstairs and go through the locker rooms and the gym!"

"Trust me, dude. We should just go to the cafeteria."

"Trust _me_, dude." Garrett says, "I know this route. That's the fastest way. The gym is right nearby the library."

"I know _detention_. I'm telling you the cafeteria is a better bet."

Logan throws his hands up, "Will somebody just pick a direction and _go_? Time is ticking and every second we waste is another second we'll get caught by Bricker!"

Garrett turns around and starts heading towards the stairwell, "I don't know about you, but I'm going through the gym."

Lindy nods and follows after him. "Yeah me too."

Logan follows them. Delia stands in front of Jasmine, urging her to come. Jasmine rolls her eyes and sighs, but follows Garrett. She catches up to the rest and then heads to the front.

When they reach the outer doors to the locker room, Jasmine tugs on them hard. They're locked.

"Great directions genius! We're trapped! The fucking doors are locked."

"Let me try." Garrett pulls hard on the doors, but they don't open.

Logan groans and rubs his face with his hands. Delia stomps her foot loudly, looking annoyed.

Lindy throws her hands in the air, "I _knew_ it! I knew we shouldn't have left the library! Now we're going to get caught and I'll get detention again and lose my presidency! Just when reelection is around the corner!"

"We're screwed…" Logan drags out the word, leaning his head back against the wall. "We can't go back the way we came, can we?"

"No…" Jasmine replies, looking pensive, "Bricker will see us."

There's a moment of despair that settles over them all, and they stand in front of the locked doors, watching their dreams pass them by.

"No…" Jasmine says again. "Bricker will see _me._"

Before anyone can ask what she means, she stuffs the weed down the front of Logan's pants, earning an affronted '_Hey_!' and takes off down the hall and up the stairs, shouting the pledge of allegiance at the top of her lungs.

The others realize what she is doing only when it's too late. And can do nothing but glance at each other and run back the way they came to go to the library.

* * *

Jasmine rounds the corner away from the entrance of the library and back towards the teacher's lounge, knowing Bricker has probably heard her by now and is trying to track her down. She pops a stick of gum in her mouth and races to the front of the lounge, where a statue of the first principal stands.

"WITH LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL!" she screams, just as Bricker rounds the corner, flushed and out of breath and looking furious.

"Heya Mr. _Dicker_. I mean, Mr. Bricker!" she cackles, sticking her chewed wad of gum up the nostril of the statue. "I decided to run for student council president! What do you think about the opening of my speech?"

"Are you out of your mind?" he growls.

"_Always_, sugar lips."

* * *

Not three minutes after the rest of them have settled back into their seats and tried to control their rapid breathing, Bricker rips open the door and Jasmine storms in, her eyes steely. She goes straight to her table and snatches up her coat and belongings. She doesn't look any of them in the eyes.

"Miss Kang here thought it would be amusing to storm across the school." He gives her a single look full of disgust which she returns, "I regret to inform you that she will not be gracing you with her presence for the rest of detention."

"Wait, you can't do that!" Lindy says worriedly, glancing at Jasmine.

Bricker ignores her, instead continuing his staring match of disgust with Jasmine, "You think you're a real riot, don't you?" She smirks, "Just like you think that little fire alarm stunt you pulled was real funny, huh?"

Lindy turns to Garrett and Logan, mouthing 'That was her?' Logan shrugs.

"What if your home was on fire? What if your family–?" Jasmine's eyes narrow and he pauses, "What if your pot was on fire?"

"Impossible sir," she drawls dryly, "It's in Logan's pants."

Garrett snorts and bites down on his lip to keep from laughing. Bricker's lethal glare targets him, and Garrett averts his gaze.

"You think this is cute? You think it's funny?"

Garrett shrugs nonchalantly.

"Look at her." He spits caustically, "She's a hoodlum. Nothing but a bum. You want to see something funny? Visit Jasmine Kang in five years and see how goddamned funny she is."

Delia's jaw drops a little, and she stares at him in shock. Lindy looks terrified. Jasmine's smirk falls off her face as Bricker walks over to her. Her gaze turns almost molten.

"What's the matter? Are you gonna cry to mommy?" He grabs her arm, "Let's g–"

Jasmine shoots up and rips her arm out of his grasp, "Get your _fucking_ hands off me!"

Jasmine pushes past him on her way to the door, "I expected better manners from you, _Dicker_." She pauses next to Garrett and sets her aviators down on the table in front of him. "For safe keeping." She winks before leading the way out the door, shoving everything on the counters down and letting the broken door slam in Bricker's face.

* * *

Jasmine plops down on the table in the storage closet near the history hall, trying to control her breathing and glaring a hole in the wall instead of looking at Bricker. He looks absolutely livid. His hair is in disarray, and his eyes have an unnatural gleam to them.

"You're lucky you're in school right now. I've got too much riding on my job, and I'm not about to lose it all because of some little brat. But the minute you've graduated and every fucking student has forgotten about you and you're failing and doing whatever it is that you street rats do, I'm gonna be there."

Jasmine starts and gawks up at him, in slight shock.

"That's right, you little _bitch_." He laughs, a little crazily, "I'm gonna be right there in your _fucking_ face, laughing. And I'm gonna knock you out. I'm gonna fucking drag you through the _dirt_."

"And you know what? No one is going to care what's going on with some drugged up, knocked up little whore with no life skills."

Jasmine swallows, her eyes stinging in the back. "…Are you… Are you threatening me?"

"What are you gonna do about it, huh?" he releases a short bark of laughter, "You think anyone will care what you say? It's your word over mine, toots. You think they will believe a word a lowlife, lying sack of horseshit like you will say? I'll win. I'll _always_ win."

"Live it up now while you can, Kang." He says, getting in her face with a sneer, "The real world's coming for you. And you know what they say. Payback's a bitch."

Jasmine leans away, her eyes glassy with unshed, angry tears. Bricker glowers at her triumphantly, "Look at you. You're not so tough now are you?"

He gives her one last disgusted look before turning to head out the closet.

"You know something? You're doing your filthy father and tramp of a mother very proud." Jasmine flinches, trying to swallow the hard lump in her throat. "Keep it up, and you'll even become just like them."

The door slams shut, and Jasmine breathes jaggedly, her lip quivering and tears rolling down her cheeks. She waits another minute before her face contorts, and she breaks down.

Not for the first time, Jasmine is glad the walls of the closet are soundproof.

* * *

"Wondering where he took her?" Garrett asks Logan, who's been jiggling his leg like crazy for the past few minutes.

"I mean, yeah. Aren't you?"

Lindy nods solemnly, "I just don't think it's fair that she sacrificed her freedom for us."

Garrett smiled a little, "Kinda reminds you of the past, doesn't it? We always used to have each other's backs."

Even Delia, who is trying to put her whole hand in her mouth, has to smile at that, and they all momentarily reminisce, thinking about how close they used to be in junior high.

"What happened—"

"SHIIIIIIIIIT!"

Garrett's question is cut off when the ceiling in the back suddenly breaks. Jasmine crashes through the ceiling with a loud boom and smashes into one of the bookcases, causing it to tip over and collide with another case. The noise is ear splitting and everyone jumps and spins towards the back, mouths hanging open.

Jasmine walks down the stairs, looking a little worse for wear and pasted with white dust from the ceiling.

They all blink, staring at her.

"What the heck..." Lindy says. "How…?"

Jasmine shrugs, "What? Forgot my Coke. I'm thirsty."

"Jasmine, Bricker was bound to hear that noise!" Garrett replies, looking a little worried. "I heard his office door open."

"Fuck!" Jasmine ducks under the boys' table, and everyone scrambles to their seats just as Bricker rips open the door and races in there.

"What the hell was that ruckus?!"

"A ruckus?" Garrett repeats, "I'm sorry sir. I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, a ruckus. I heard a ruckus from the faculty bathroom! I know it came from here."

Lindy smiles, a bit mischievously, "I'm sure that must have been quite vexing. Could you describe said ruckus for me?"

"Cut that wisecracking out, smart ass." He glares at them all, "There was a _noise_ in here. A loud noise. What was it?"

Jasmine rearranges her position, holding her laughter in by biting the inside of her cheek as the others continue to run word circles around Bricker. Logan moves his leg over, and she looks forward, suddenly remembering where she stuffed her pot.

"Well sir." Logan says, "Maybe it would be best if you—"

His voice catches in a pretty high pitched squeak, and he jolts up in his seat, cheeks turning red. There's a bump from under the table, and Delia slams her heels onto her table twice. Bricker looks at her like she's crazy, and she whistles quietly, looking at the ceiling lamp.

"Maybe it would be best if I _what_, Mr. Watson?" Mr. Bricker replies in exasperation.

"Uh… uh…" No words come out of Logan's mouth, and he jerks again. His face is turning quite red, and Bricker stares at him like he's lost his mind.

There is an '_ow'_ that sounds from under the table, and Garrett quickly coughs loudly and uncontrollably into his hand, trying to cover up the noise.

"Was that the noise?"

"No that was not the goddamned noise."

Lindy glances over at them, giving them a stern look to cut it out before calling Bricker's attention over, "Uh… What Logan was trying to say… Was that maybe it would be best if you… made the noise! Yeah! If you make the noise, maybe we can tell you if we heard it too!"

Mr. Bricker's eyes dart around, glaring at each of them in turn, "There is definitely something fishy going on here. You better not make any more noise." He points to Lindy, "And you. I will not be made a fool of."

"Yes Mr. Dicker." She quickly shakes her head, her eyes wide, "I mean, Mr. Bricker!"

The others dissolve into snorts and choked laughter as Mr. Bricker leaves, and they notice the toilet paper stuck to the backside of his pants like a tail.

Logan grabs Garrett's discarded letterman jacket and shoves it on his lap, rocking back and forth and banging his head on the table.

Jasmine steps out from under the table, waving around the weed like a small flag, "Doobage acquired. Let's get high as a kite, mother fuckers!"

Garrett's jaw drops. "You're not seriously planning on smoking that shit in here are you? The smell will linger!"

"This library already smells like shit anyway. Who's gonna notice an extra stench or two?"

Garrett turns to Lindy, shaking his head incredulously, "Can you believe this? This is crazy!"

Lindy doesn't respond, staring after where Jasmine walked towards the back. She licks her lips pensively, contemplating whether the pros outway the cons.

"Lindy?" Garrett asks.

She looks over at Garrett silently, before tugging her jacket off and standing up, walking over to the back.

"Logan?" Garrett asks.

Logan sits up, face no longer flushed and stands up too, following his sister to the back. Delia stares at the back of Garrett's head, counting the seconds it takes him to stand up and follow them. Or not follow them.

After about ten, Garrett curses under his breath and follows them to the back.

* * *

It becomes increasingly obvious, as Jasmine watches them that aside from Logan, these people have probably never smoked pot before. Lindy is dissolved in crazy giggles, rotating in a circle and pretending like her hands are talking to each other. Garrett is impersonating celebrity puppets. Jasmine chuckles.

Lindy stands up after taking another drag and puts Jasmine's sunglasses on her face, making pouty face and peace signs, "E equals MC squa-yad motha luvahs!"

"Do Kermit the frog!" Logan chants, "Kermit! Kermit! Kermit!"

Jasmine snorts like a pig and claps her hands above her head, whooping.

"Why hello there Miss Piggy." Garrett starts, sounding nothing like the dear frog, and more like a deranged old man, "You're looking quite…_hammy_ today!"

"Not by the hairs of my chinny chin chin!" He says all high pitched.

They dissolve into raucous, uncontrollable laughter, and Lindy tips backwards in her seat from laughing so hard. The force topples the seat, and it hits the ground with a loud clatter that shakes the back.

Jasmine brings her hands to her mouth like a microphone, "Sir. We have identified the source of said ruckus."

Another round of boisterous, wild laughter starts up again.

* * *

Delia walks over as Garrett and Logan recline on the couch, checking out each other's wallets.

"What the fuck…" Logan questions, "Dude this is the worst fucking fake ID ever. You made yourself seventy-two."

Garrett looks at it and frowns, "It's a good fake ID."

"What do you even need it for?"

"To buy liquor."

Logan raises a brow and stares at him, "If you've been able to buy any shit with this piece of crap ID, then _please_ tell me where you're buying."

Delia plops down next to them, clutching her bag like it's a lifeline. Her mouth opens and closes for a small period of time before she finally speaks, her voice hoarse. "Want to see what's in my bag?"

They both glance at each other and then back at her. "No." Their response is almost simultaneous.

Delia dumps it on the chair anyway, watching their flabbergasted expressions as they look at her stuff. Most of it is useless junk like the tops of sharpeners that no longer have the sharpener part and the springs of a pen. And bottle caps and the like. But she also has a couple drawings in there. There's someone else's bus card. A picture of a woman and her baby. A handful of tampons. And lots of other weird stuff that no one would carry in their bags.

"Holy crap…" Garrett picks up a tampon missing its wrapper, "How do these things work?"

"Do you always carry around so much shit with you?" Logan asks.

Delia glares at him, "Yes. I always carry around a lot of shit with me. You never know when you might run away from home."

"Why do you want to run?" Logan picks up a bus card with eyebrows raised, "This looks like it's from the 60s."

"Because there are no aliens in this stupid city."

Logan nudges Garrett, almost pitching over because his balance is so bad. "She wants to run away because there are no aliens here. Crazy or what?"

Logan shakes his head in disdain, singsonging. "Once a crazy, always a crazy… Yet, no one cares…"

"Asshole." She hisses, grinding her teeth and swiftly standing up and leaving. "Forget I said anything…"

"Shut up Logan." Garrett says, pushing him so that he falls onto the couch. Logan starts chortling like an idiot.

Garrett follows Delia further back in the library. She looks up at him, and he can see her eyes are slightly watery.

"Does it bother you?" he asks.

"What?"

"When people call you crazy?"

Delia snorts and slumps onto the ground. "I _am_ crazy."

"You're lying…" he says resolutely, meeting her eyes as he slumps next to her.

"No." Delia laughs, a weird noise that sounds like she's gasping for breath. "I _am_ crazy. I am _the_ crazy." She worries her bottom lip, and the pained expression climbs back into her eyes. "...And they just don't care. They never do. No matter what I do."

"Who?"

She looks away from his imploring blue eyes, picking at the torn fabric of her wool dress.

"Delia."

Her gaze snaps back to his. "Those evil people."

"…Your parents?" he guesses.

She frowns, "Yeah… them."

"What do they do?"

"They ignore me..."

He smiles sympathetically in response, "Yeah…"

"Why did we stop hanging out?" she whispers.

"I don't know…" he says, and they both start laughing.

* * *

At 1:23, they're all reclining lazily on the carpet of the second floor, relaxing and chilling as their high begins to subside. Jasmine traces the old, aging outline of ancient vomit under her legs.

"Let's play a game." Lindy says, breaking the silence. "What would you do with a million bucks? Garrett."

"A million? I don't know. Buy a lot of crap?"

Logan snorts and rolls his eyes. Lindy chuckles, "C'mon, that's too easy. The idea is to do something crazy. Like come to school wearing a thong. _Just_ a thong. Would you do it?"

Garrett starts laughing, his shoulders shaking, "What? It's like thirty degrees outside."

Delia stares at them, "I would do it."

Logan nods, "Yeah, I don't doubt _you_ would."

"What? No dignity?" Jasmine says sarcastically.

Delia nods again, repeating herself. "I would do it. Even if you didn't pay me."

Logan rolls his eyes, "I still wouldn't do it. Even if you paid me a million dollars."

Delia turns to Logan and asks abruptly, "Is it cuz you're a virgin? Have you ever had sex?"

Logan frowns, "We already had this conversation."

Jasmine turns her head with a twinkle in her eyes, "You never actually answered the question."

"Yeah. Because it's none of your business."

"Virgin alert!" Jasmine hoots.

Logan crosses his arms, "Why are you so fucking interested in knowing whether I'm a virgin or not?"

Garrett shrugs, "Well, there _are_ a lot of rumours floating around?"

Lindy looks away, speaking through her teeth. "Not gonna lie, this is kind of awkward."

"But you still want to know." Jasmine says evenly, "Because you want to know if your brother lost his before you lost yours."

Lindy glares at Jasmine, "I already told you I didn't lose my damned virginity! Drop it!"

Delia thrusts a finger in her direction, "You're lying!"

Lindy frowns at her, "What?"

"I saw you!"

"Oooohhh!" Garrett catcalls.

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did!"

"No you _didn't_!"

"Yes I _did_!"

"No. You. Didn't!" Lindy screams, "How could you possibly have fucking seen it happen when it was inside a fucking cabin in Aspen?!"

Silence trails through the group as they stare at Lindy in shock. Jasmine starts laughing uncontrollably.

"Told you you were lying." Delia says haughtily.

"You damn bitch…" Lindy growls, "You decide not to talk all day, and now you open your mouth just to instigate shit?"

Garrett rolls his eyes, "You're just pissed because she made you reveal something you didn't want to."

"Shut up _Garrett_."

"So you're really not a virgin?" Logan asks, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"That's what I've been saying all day." Jasmine whispers to the group, nodding emphatically.

Lindy frowns, "No. I'm not. It's not shameful to not be a virgin."

Delia nods, "No one said it was. As long as it was with someone you loved, that's what counts."

They all nod.

Logan sighs, "Don't be ashamed Lindy. You made a decision for yourself."

"And you, Logan?" Delia says, "You're a virgin right?"

He nods slowly. "Haven't lost it yet. Still waiting for the right girl."

"You're a romantic at heart, aren't you Logan?" Garrett nudges him playfully and he snorts, nudging him back.

Jasmine cackles loudly. Logan turns to her with a frown.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing! It's just hilarious how the geeky twin is the one who's gotten fucked. But Mr. Popular has yet to get properly laid. What an unexpected turn of events."

"Would you lay off and stop being such a bitch Jasmine?" Lindy growls, coming to her brother's defense. "Why do you always have to put down other people?"

"I'm not putting anyone down." She grins. "I'm just being honest."

Logan rolls his eyes, "Yeah, honest. _Sure_. Tell me this. If I asked you if you were a virgin, right now, would you answer truthfully?"

"I would." Jasmine smirks, "Unlike you people, I don't _need_ to hide _my_ secrets. I'm an open book. What you see is what you get."

Logan fixes her with an acute stare, "So are you a virgin?"

Jasmine smiles, her mouth quirking up lightly at the corners. Garrett, Delia, and Lindy stare at her, but she ignores them, training her vision on Logan.

"Yeah." She says softly, "I'm a virgin too."

Logan smiles after a spell, and she returns it. Genuinely.

"Well I'm not a virgin." Garrett adds, leaning back. "Lost it sophomore year in the back of a pick-up truck before a big game. Carrie Mulner."

Jasmine gives him a look, "The STD machine? Hope you got tested, Sporto, because she's one disgusting bitch."

Lindy waves her off, "I have you beat. Freshman year. Debate team trip to Aspen. Lewis Hamilton."

Jasmine's lips curl in disgust. "That's even worse. Geek bait is definitely lower than any kind of nymph."

Logan grimaces, "Can you guys swap sex stories in your own spare time? No offense, but I'm not really a fan of hearing about my sister's sexual exploits."

"Alright." Lindy shrugs, "So then what do you want to discuss?"

Delia's head snaps to Garrett. "What did you do to get Saturday detention?"

They all quiet, a trifle shocked at Delia's outburst, but also finding themselves curious about their reasons for being here today.

"I, uh…"

He looks over at Delia, and she gives him a half smile, nodding. The reassurance encourages him, and he sighs.

"You know that hole in the fence of the football stadium? The one that leads to the fucked up, crumbling pillar?"

Logan's eyes widen, "Shit… that was you? How?"

Garrett nods, "I started living with my dad this year. Mom got remarried and with her new life and pregnancy, I felt that I was holding her back from ditching the sourness of her previous marriage. I asked my dad if he could have full custody. And voila. I live with my dad."

"Some people don't know this. But my dad was in pro ball. He's got this whole room in his house dedicated to NFL and his team and stuff. He was a placekicker too."

Jasmine's eyebrows rise, impressed.

"That's a lot of pressure." Lindy says.

"Tell me about it." He continues, "Anyway, he works me hard. He thinks I've got talent to go pro. Every night he's on my tail. Analyzing my every move. He's at every practice. Every game. If I mess up even once, I get the fucking lecture of my life." His fists clench as he recalls the memory, "Thursday's game, I missed one goal. _One_ fucking goal. And he exploded…"

"_Son! You'll never amount to anything with the shitty way you play! You don't have it in ya! There's not a damn bone in your body that will ever play pro ball with the way you played tonight! _This shit and that shit! It never fucking ends!" Garrett looks up to the ceiling. "You know what happened? I lost confidence. I fucked up during practice and coach isn't one to give second chances. He took me off the starting position. Put this stupid little freshman kid for tonight's game. He told me '_Son. Until you prove to me that you have what it takes, I'm taking you off the spot.'_"

Garrett scoffed, "Sounded just like my fucking old man. Do you understand the embarrassment? For _the_ Patrick Spenger's son to be replaced? By a freshman no less! He didn't even say anything to me. He just grabbed his whiskey and drank it in the living room. Wouldn't answer anything I said. Like he disowned me as his son or something."

"I wanted to get back at him. Get back at him for making me feel like a fucking worthless player. For making me feel like I wasn't worth anything as a person. As a son!" Garrett's eyes grow glassy. "I just wanted to relax. Have some fun a bit. So I went out with some friends and we got drunk on the school parking lot. We thought it'd be fine. The area is pretty deserted at night. But then someone got the idea that putting beer all over the visitor's seats before the game would be pretty funny. But we couldn't get in the fence."

"So I got behind the wheel." Garrett rubs his face with his hands, "Stupidly, I thought I could just tear down one corner of the fence. I could get it down and we could get in and finish the prank. I obviously didn't realize how intoxicated I was."

"When I came to, the cops were shaking me awake. There were beer cans and bottles all over and in my car. I had crashed straight through the fence and right into the pillar. My friends were all gone. They just left all the evidence with me and took off. My dad was standing behind the cops with Bricker. He didn't even look pissed. Didn't act pissed."

"He said only one sentence to me. 'It's like I don't even know you anymore.' And I just _lost_ it. I fucking _lost_ it. I went off on him. I don't even know what I said. But all that was going through my mind was that all this time, I've been trying to be the perfect son. He's never acknowledged me, never has encouraged me, never treated me like his goddamned _son_ for once and he had the nerve to say he _knew_ me? We haven't spoken since… The only reason I'm not gonna get kicked off the team is because I'm here in detention. But I'm on probation and can't play in any official games until next semester."

There is silence when he is finished talking, and they stare at him quietly.

Garrett snorts, "But man. I can't believe they ditched me like that. Some friends, huh?"

Jasmine shrugs with one shoulder, "I dunno. They seem like pretty cool people to me."

He chuckles, "Want to know the worst part?"

"What?"

"I _did _buy all the alcohol. Left the receipt on my dashboard."

They laugh.

Lindy finally looks up from her rigid position and glances at Jasmine, "Sometimes when I look at my reflection, all I see is a caricature. A figure. It feels like I'm not…_me_." They quiet down and stare at Lindy, "I joined debate and SC freshman year because someone told me I had the makings of a real diplomat. I joined mathletes because someone said my abilities to tie concepts to equations were excellent."

"I was elected as president last year. The first sophomore in the history of the school to ever win presidency. And then captain of the debate team came next. Before I knew it, I was doing too much and involved in so much. But one thought kept ringing in my head. Who is this girl? Who is Lindy Watson? Whenever I asked that question, all of my accomplishments would pop up, but the reality was much more bleak. I had nothing. I don't even know my personality anymore. Slowly, things that I knew about myself just kept disappearing."

Lindy sighs, picking at the crumbling colour on her fingernails.

"The pressure just kept building. The pressure to find myself. We wrote a practice college letter in English to prepare for next year, when the real stuff would begin. I thought I had the assignment down. After all, I'm Lindy Watson. I can do anything. I don't even remember what I wrote about. But as I finished my essay, I knew it was absolute bullshit. Part of me hoped my teacher would be impressed by my technical skills and would ignore the fact that I hadn't really answered the question."

She laughs breathlessly.

"I mean it's such a _stupid_ assignment. 'Who am I?'A stupid, simple assignment that I should've just gotten a damn A on!" She pounds her fist into the carpet, "I got the paper back. There were no markings. I thought I got a perfect score. But then I turned the page to where my grade was."

"I got a fucking D. Not even a passing score! A D. That didn't bother me as much. But under the D, my teacher wrote one fucking sentence. 'Do you know who you are, Lindy?' That one stupid question drove me over the edge for _weeks_! I couldn't let it go. I just _couldn't._"

"On Wednesday, debate came back from a tourny we just won. Everyone else left to go to a cocktail party to commemorate our first win of the season. I told them I had to get my jacket from my locker and I'd meet them there. I got my jacket and left. I was almost out of the school grounds, you know? Until I turned and saw my reflection on the window."

"Wait…" Jasmine interjects, "Are you talking about the windows on the north side of the school?"

"Yeah, those." She nods, "I saw my reflection. And I stared at it for a good thirty minutes. I tried. I _tried_! I tried so fucking hard to think of who I was! And I still came up blank! I didn't know what to do! I didn't even think! I just picked up some rocks from the ground and before I knew it, every window was shattered. Every single inch of glass, destroyed. I don't even know how long I stood there, but the janitor found me, crying standing up. And here I am."

"Hardcore…" Jasmine grins, "Looks like Princess Lindy isn't such a princess after all."

"I ruined my image. I destroyed my parent's trust in me. The school's trust in me. I doubt I'll be reelected."

"You'll be reelected." Logan says confidently.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you're the most responsible, well equipped, qualified person for the job I know. And everyone else sees it too. Sure, you shattered a bunch of windows. And so maybe you're having some identity issues. But you still put out hard work. You've improved the student body in so many ways since you became president."

"Regardless, it's not like mom and dad care." She glances at Jasmine, "You're right, you know? My parents love Logan more than me. It's like they just don't give a shit about their 'perfect' daughter. I come and go, but they don't even make an effort to talk to me. To get to know me. And then Logan talks about some girl he's going out with to Dad and Dad's face just lights up. I thought maybe it was because I was unrelatable, but it's because I have no character. They're not interested in me at all as a person." The tears start falling from her eyes slightly, "…Their own daughter."

Jasmine looks down at the carpet in remorse at the site of Lindy crying. The rest are silent, swallowing their words because they are not sure what to say.

"Lindy. That's not true." Logan says harshly, "Mom and Dad love you."

"And how do you know that? Did you see the way they reacted when you said you had detention?! They didn't care! But when I said it, they sat me down and demanded I told them everything. When all was said and done, _I_ was put down like I was a stain on their ledger! A slash of red or something!"

"Lindy. The reason they probably got so mad at you is because _you're_ their hope and dream for the future. You're the only one in the family who has the drive to be someone in life. So the detention you got hit them hard." She looks at him, rather shocked at the statement, "Hell, I'm really jealous of you in that sense. They may be harder on you, but it's only because they believe in you. They haven't given up on you… They know you can do more with yourself. They've already discredited me. _That's _why they don't care what I do."

"It still doesn't make it hurt any less Logan…" Lindy pierces him with a harsh stare, "To be basically ignored by your parents, except when you fuck up? Do you know what that feels like?" Garrett nods in agreement, understanding the emotion all too well, "Because you know what that means for me? That _everybody_ in my whole damn family ignores me. Even you!"

Delia makes a fake gun in her hand and points it at Logan, making a soft '_Pow'_. Logan looks shocked and guilty.

Jasmine's eyes shine mischievously, "Let me guess… Logan became Mr. Popular freshman year and ditched you all?"

Lindy continues to glare at Logan, "If only it were that simple. I told you I joined student council and debate right? Those two clubs are "nerd" central, apparently. The point is that the group I joined has nothing to do with the group Logan joined. And you know what he did? He lied to his friends. Told them we weren't related at all. Said our last names were a coincidence. All because he didn't want to be associated with me."

Logan looks ashamed and stares at a small hole in the carpet, "Lindy… I know I'm an idiot. And I'm sorry. I was just scared. It was a bad judgement call. I didn't want to lose the friends I had just made."

"I'm your sister Logan… Your twin. You could have said anything else, but to discredit me as your sister hurts me more than any kind of punch to the gut ever could."

"Oh boohoo. Cry me a river." Everyone turns to look at Delia in surprise. She is looking at Lindy with an unreserved look of disgust. "You hypocrite."

Lindy's gaze turns furious, "What?" she snaps, teeth grit.

"You keep talking about how Logan ditched you and everything, but let's face it. At least he continued to hang out with us for a while. _You're_ the one who pretty much cut contact cold turkey."

"What do you mean? I say hi to you in the hallways all the time. I didn't cut contact."

"Cut the crap." Delia says, her voice raising higher than her soft drawl for the first time tonight. "Don't be so full of yourself. You know as well as I do that that isn't real contact. It's a pity hi because you feel sorry for me or something. When was the last time you even had a real conversation with me since you became queen of the goody-goodies? When was the last time you stopped to ask me how my day was? You act like you're too good for us."

Lindy's eyes narrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Delia says simply, picking at her fingernails. "You're a bitch."

Lindy gasps and looks affronted for a few good seconds, "Excuse me?! I am not a bitch. I _talk _to you despite how weird you act at school. You should be grateful."

Jasmine scoffs and rolls her eyes to the sky, "And here it is. That pride that all you preps and perfs have where you think that _everybody_ wants to be you and that the world revolves around you." She glares at Lindy, "Get over yourself, princess. You're not all that."

Lindy returns the sneer, her eyes flashing with anger, "Oh, as opposed to you? Big, tough, rebel Jasmine. Acting out to get attention from everyone because she lives in the projects and her life is a big mess. Oh woe is me."

"At least I stayed true to myself. I'm not the bitch who decided to leave her friends just because she got a little popular with another group."

Delia cackles, "Hah! True to yourself? Look at what you're wearing. Look at how you act. We can see right through you! You're still that preppy little fashionista deep down. Your entire get up is fake! You can see it in your eyes."

Jasmine's hard glint turns to Delia. "And you would know that from what? Twenty minutes of talking? You don't know me. Let's face it Delia. You and I were never really friends. You were just the tag along who happened to be friends with Lindy. But you weren't part of the group."

Delia's mouth turns down, and she looks down at her shoes, her eyes shining in hurt.

Jasmine scoffs again, distaste evident in her features. "All of you left each other. You're all to blame for the destruction of the group."

"Hey! You don't have to be so rude!" Garrett speaks up, "_You_ were the one who decided not to contact us. _You _were the one who disappeared for four months and never told us what happened to you. You don't get to sit here like a hypocrite and tell us _we_ left, when you stopped talking to us all first!"

"When'd you grow a pair of balls, Garrett? I'm impressed."

"Oh just shut up." Garrett's eyes narrow, "Jasmine, where were you at the start of freshman year? You weren't there, none of us could contact your phone, and your house apparently had been sold. And then you show up second semester and all of a sudden you're Miss I-Smoke-Pot-On-The-Bleachers, and you don't tell us what happened."

Jasmine glares at Garrett, "How is that any of your business, Sporto?"

"Look. Even if we're not really friends anymore, we _were_ still friends at some point. You at least owe it to us since you disappeared off the face of the planet."

"Why don't you ask Lindy?" She snorts and juts her chin out in Lindy's direction,"She knows."

Everybody's stares shift to Lindy, surprise written all over their faces. Lindy swallows and licks her lips slowly, looking put on the spot.

Delia's eyes narrow, "Wait… So you knew what happened to Jasmine the whole time we were freaking out, and you never said a word to us?"

Lindy looks up, "I found out what happened to Jasmine, but not until she came back to school. And even then, it wasn't my secret to tell. That would have been betraying her trust."

"Your loyalty is flattering Lindy…" Jasmine drawls sarcastically, "It would have been even better if you hadn't blown me off as soon as I told you."

Lindy looks down at the carpet and drags her legs up to her chest, hiding her face behind her knees as her cheeks turn red in embarrassment and her eyes tear up.

"But no matter." Jasmine says, "You want to know what happened? Sure, I'll tell you."

"My dad's entire company was just one big fraud. A Ponzi scheme. He got caught the summer before high school started. Went to prison for embezzlement. Fifteen years they said. Mom and I lost the home, the car, everything. I missed the semester because of all the insurance stuff, the trials. Mom and I both had to get part time jobs to be able to even pay for the apartment we needed. I didn't have time for school. And quite frankly, I wasn't feeling it."

"But how did you change so much?" Logan asks, almost incredulously, "I mean, you were a totally different person back then…"

"I grew up, Logan." She chuckles quietly, scratching at a spot on her leg, "We were all so ignorant, you know? It's like we lived on this perfect little cloud, always experiencing the perfect life. And it wasn't until I saw just how disgusting and horrible and dangerous and pitiful the world is, that I grew up."

"Besides," she grins at them all like a cat, "I always did have something of a bad streak as a kid. I just stopped oppressing her."

"Why didn't you just tell us?" Logan asks, "We would have supported you."

Her gaze snaps to his and her expression hardens, "No you would not have. When I came back, you all were completely split up. You all changed. You think I could trust my secrets with you?" She snaps.

"You could have tried." Delia pipes up, "Sure, we might not have spoken, but you didn't even try… Because contrary to what you might believe, we _were_ friends Jasmine. Maybe we didn't have as strong a connection yet, but we cared about each other. I cared about you like a sister. And I'm pretty sure the feeling was mutual. Hell, we _all_ cared for each other like siblings. And that's why you should have still told us. Regardless."

Jasmine calmly stares at Delia for a moment as if they are mentally having a conversation. Delia returns the stare, unblinkingly. Then, a little grin breaks out on Delia's face after a few seconds, and Jasmine returns it, rolling her eyes and looking away. The tense atmosphere in the room disintegrates, and Garrett releases a sigh of relief. Lindy rests her chin on her legs, smiling peacefully.

"By the way, what'd you do to get in here, Logan?" Garrett asks, bringing up the conversation again.

"Made out with Danica Bricker instead of going to class."

Jasmine laughs, "You got detention for making out with someone?"

"In Bricker's office. On his desk."

"Oh."

They break out laughing again. The air is filled with five different chortles and laughs, and for a while, they feel like they're back in middle school, laughing at each other and having a great time. As the laughter tapers off, a comfortable silence ensues.

"…So what happens on Monday?" Delia asks tentatively, "Are we just going to pretend like today never happened?"

The silence that ensues is like a hammer to glass and the illusion of their happy friendship shatters so brutality. No words are said for a few minutes as they each think about the loaded question Delia just asked.

"…Yes…" Lindy says quietly.

Logan's gaze shoots to her. "Seriously? After everything that's happened today, you're just going to go back to school doing things the exact same?"

Lindy scowls at him, "Don't give me that, Logan. Stop trying to act like you wouldn't do the same. What would you do if Delia walked down the hall straight to you on Monday and you were with Brett Daniels and your little crony of friends, and she said hi. Would you say hi back?"

Logan doesn't respond, and Delia looks at the carpet, nodding in understanding, though her facial expression is disgruntled. Everyone knows what his silence means.

"And you Garrett." Lindy continues, "You'd probably say hi to her only after lagging behind your football and cheerleader friends so that they wouldn't see you say hi."

Garrett looks at his fingernails, avoiding everyone's gaze. His silence is perfectly understood as well.

Jasmine's eyes narrow, "And you? What would you do?"

She looks Delia in the eye apologetically, "I would say hi to her. And then when she's out of earshot, I'd tell my friends that I did it because I feel bad she doesn't have any friends."

"Then you," Jasmine says, her eyes glinty and sharp, "are a _bitch_."

Lindy sniffles quietly and shrugs, looking at her, "Don't try to act like you wouldn't do the same, Jasmine. If Delia came up to you and your friends under the bleachers, you wouldn't—"

"Don't you _dare_ talk about my friends like you know us when you've never so much as _condescended_ to speak to any of us!" She hisses, acid in her tone, "I would never do that to Delia, because unlike you and your group of prissy, bitchy, asshole friends, we're good people. _We_ don't blacklist other people for being different."

"Well what the hell are we supposed to do?!" Lindy yells suddenly, "We worked hard to get where we are! To make those friends! We don't want to be shunned!"

Jasmine snorts, "Shunned like us two you mean? The fucked up rebel and the crazy girl with no friends?"

Logan rolls his eyes, "You only aren't worried about your image because you don't have anything to lose. If you were in our position, I'm sure you would care a lot more."

"You think Delia and I don't care? You think it doesn't hurt us when you _fuckheads_ label us however you want just because we don't fit the norms of your boring society?" Jasmine seethes, "Well guess what, you _prick_. We're human just like you. And we have feelings just like you. Just because we ignore your asshole tendencies and pretend like the shit you say doesn't bug us doesn't mean it doesn't."

Jasmine's eyes narrow.

"Oh, but that's right. I don't count, right? I might as well not even exist at this school." Everyone looks at Jasmine with raised eyebrows, startled by the reminder of the harsh words. Logan's mouth hangs slightly open in shock, his hostile expression withering away into a mortified look. "What? Forgot you said that? Well I didn't."

Logan looks ashamed, "I didn't… I didn't mean it like that Jasmine."

"Yes you did."

The air grows thick with tension once again as an uneasy silence falls over them. They stare at one another, unsure of how to respond to each other. How to just talk to each other like in the past. Delia stares at them all in turn, wondering how their relationships could have all gotten so bad when they used to be such great friends. She swallows the lump in her throat.

"You guys wanna know what I did to get in here…?" She asks quietly.

They regard her curiously, broken out of their trains of thought.

"What?" Lindy asks.

"…Nothing." She admits, a slow smile growing on her face, "I had nothing better to do."

Silence reigns for a fraction of time. They blink at Delia incredulously, who just keeps her goofy smile on her face. Lindy is the one to crack first, snorting and then trying to hide it behind her hand. But then Garrett starts chuckling, and it isn't long before Logan and Jasmine join the fray. It starts out as scattered laughter, but as if a broken dam, spills out and grows and swells, and it isn't long before the five are rolling on the floor, clutching their stomachs, gasping for breath, and hiccuping. No one cares that Bricker might hear.

* * *

When rummaging around the storage closet of the library, Lindy finds an old record player and an album from the 80s. She sets it up, plugging it into the adjacent amp and blasts it through the library.

A random game of hide and seek tag commences. They kick off their shoes and pull off coats and jackets, running around the library as if they are children once again. As if they are still eight and playing with each other as they had all summer. They all laugh and giggle as Delia chases Logan when he accidentally makes too much noise and the rest use his accidental sacrifice to reach home base.

Hide and seek tag becomes hide and seek dance tag. And pretty soon, they forgo the tag altogether and end up dancing crazily in the middle of the library. Delia's whipping her hair all over the place. Lindy is snapping her fingers and doing the twist. Garrett is doing some combination of the duck dance and the bunny hop while Logan does the Macarena. Jasmine spins and twirls wildly, moving her hips, jumping into the air, and just letting her body go.

When the last track of the album dwindles into silence, they collapse in a disorderly heap, breathing heavily and laughing breathlessly at each other. Their clothes and hair are all in disarray, but they don't care.

* * *

At 3:30, Jasmine crawls back to the damaged bookshelf in the back to climb back through the vents so she can head back to her solitary confinement. Although no one says it out loud, her presence is missed.

They decide to let Lindy write the essay, not only because she is the smartest, but because they all realize they were probably going to write the same one. In their own special ways. But they know, Lindy will know how to say it best.

She sits down and begins to write, her lips pulling into a small smile.

* * *

Jasmine pulls her leg up to her chest, not particularly thinking about anything and waiting until she can leave in thirty minutes. It's cold in the closet, and the walls feel like they are ever so slowly closing in on her.

The doorknob rattles quietly, and Jasmine looks up, startled. After a little moment, it opens and Lindy pokes her head in, a sheepish smile on her face.

"Knock, knock."

Jasmine raises a brow, her expression neutral, "You lost? Little girl's room is a little farther down the hall."

"I'm looking for the girl who used to be my best friend." She enters the closet and closes the door behind her, leaning against the wall. "Well, at least until I was a bitch to her and lost her. Does she live around here?"

"Perhaps. Check the nearest dumpster. You might just find her." Jasmine replies, her lips quirking up in amusement.

"Oh I already looked there. Found her mother's ex-boyfriend."

Jasmine lets out a tiny chuckle, and Lindy smiles.

"I know it's been three years, and it's too little too late, but I'm sorry." Lindy moves to the rickety table and hops on next to Jasmine. Jasmine stares at her with no expression, giving away nothing. "Genuinely sorry. I should never have dropped you when you needed me most."

Jasmine eyebrows furrow, but she says nothing.

"And I know that I screwed up our friendship. I could have just talked to you. I _should have_ just talked to you. But I got scared and rejected the one person who knew me better than myself. I'm a shitty friend."

"Yeah. You are."

Lindy looks up in alarm at the smile in Jasmine's voice and is surprised to see her grinning. Not smirking like a cat or sneering with thinly veiled contempt, but actually, genuinely smiling.

"I forgive you."

"Why? I was a real bitch to you."

"I already told myself years ago that if you apologized, I would forgive you. We may not hang out anymore, but you were still my best friend, Lindy. Nothing's ever going to change that."

"Thank you…"

"And if you ever feel lonely and need to talk, just stop by my place. I don't live with my mom anymore. She kicked me out after I nearly killed her man." Lindy's eyebrows rise in concern, "Don't worry. I share an apartment with a gay gigolo. Surprisingly awesome roommate. I think a house warming party is in order… Congratulations first invite."

Lindy's eyes glisten with unshed tears, and she swallows the lump in her throat, not understanding why Jasmine is being so friendly when Lindy treated her like scum.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because like Delia said. I care about you." She shrugs nonchalantly, "And cuz you're letting me."

Before she overthinks it, Lindy giggles happily and glomps Jasmine, wrapping her arms tightly around her neck and rubbing her cheek against her hair.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Alright, alright! Geez! I get it already!" Jasmine says in mock annoyance, voice muffled as she tries to push Lindy off of her. But even she cannot hide the wide smile on her face.

* * *

The five walk out of the school around 4:05, satisfied expressions on their faces, leaving to go back home to their respective homes and families. Three cars and parents are parked out in the front. Delia's mother is up at the front. She turns to them with slightly watery eyes and yanks all four of them down into a quick group hug. She breaks the hug almost as soon as she starts it and shimmies down the stairs into her mom's car.

As her mom drives out of the school, Delia stares up at the graffiti letters, suddenly understanding what they say. She can't believe she's missed it all this time. She snorts.

_I AM MY OWN PERSON_.

Garrett is the next to go. With a wave and a smile tinged with melancholy, Garrett hesitantly shuffles down the stairs when his father blares the horn. As they drive off and he passes the graffiti, his eyebrows raise in surprise at the sudden clarity of the statement. His lips curve into a wide smile.

_I AM MY OWN PERSON._

Jasmine salutes the twins silently as they descend the stairs to their own ride. With a grin on their part, she waves one last time as they head off. Logan and Lindy glance at each other as they pass the graffiti, both knowing the other understands what it says now.

_I AM MY OWN PERSON._

Glancing back at the school momentarily, Jasmine smirks and runs her hands through her hair before slipping on her aviators. She stuffs her hands into the torn pockets of her coat, making her way across the parking lot, out of the school, glancing up at those obscure graffiti letters. Somehow, they make sense to her, and she rolls her eyes, smiling.

_I AM MY OWN PERSON_.

As she saunters through a field in a public park, heading back to her apartment, she throws her head back and drives a fist into the air triumphantly.

* * *

_"Dear Mr. Bricker. We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us - in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us IS a highflier, and an athlete, and a basket case, a socialite, and a delinquent. Does that answer your question? Sincerely yours, The Breakfast Club."_


End file.
